


Caught Between Some Rocks and a Hot Place

by dragongirl253



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: (also as small business owners), Aged-Up Character(s), Comedy, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Luminary, Polyamory, crematorium/sex shop/landscaping AU, obviously they're aged up; they're small business owners, some other party members make cameos too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongirl253/pseuds/dragongirl253
Summary: Erik runs a landscaping business that's mostly just an excuse for him to steal from people who can afford landscaping services. Hendrik, who owns the crematorium across the street,cannot standthe little thief. The owner of the sex shop next door, Eleven... Well, xi's mostly just caught in the middle. Apart, none of them are anything special. But, when they meet...Well, it's more of a disaster than ever, actually. But they're doing their best!Each of the boys refuses to let the other have Eleven to himself, even if that means they end up datingeach otherin the process. Eleven must simultaneously flirt with and mediate between chivalrous himbo Hendrik and gay crime-doer Erik until they realize that maybe... Just maybe, they actually love each other. Either that, or until they realize they should really just date El on their own time instead of trying to make this thruple work. So, grab the popcorn and watch these three fools make it their jobs to gaze (or glare) at each other from across the street on company time.
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary/Graig | Hendrik, Graig | Hendrik/Hero | Luminary
Comments: 12
Kudos: 13





	1. Idk man, I just work here

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiii everyone! Just a quick warning: In this chapter, Hendrik and Erik fumble with Eleven's pronouns a tiiiny bit while they're still figuring it out. So, just a heads up in case you're in a headspace where that's gonna bother you.  
> Thanks for reading, hope y'all enjoy!

The flames lapping at the viewing window in front of them, Hendrik gives a solidary nod to the sniffling siblings beside him, here for the closure of bidding their mother farewell once and for all. He turns and walks away to give them a moment alone. Well, really to go finalize the paperwork, but there’s nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone.

Hendrik keeps the window above his oversized faux-mahogany desk open at all times. It often results in scenes like the one in front of him now, with the paperwork scattered across the floor, but he has to have  _ somewhere _ to get a break from the smell of burning flesh and formaldehyde. The wind slams the door shut behind him as he crawls to his desk, grumbling and collecting his papers as he goes.

Hendrik is far more interested in the forms he has filled out too many times to count than in his view of the street outside the crematorium. The street is not too unlike the one in front of his house, about a half-hour drive up the freeway away -- in front of his house is an unmarked, wide street, meant for children to play in. The street in front of his house has green shade trees and over-decorated porches lining it on either side, and is often alive with the sound of street hockey or basketball. Here, no one is lining up to let their children hang out in the sunbleached street between a crematorium and a sex shop.

The rare sound of a car passing in front of his establishment catches Hendrik’s attention. He looks up when he hears the vehicle stop before it reaches the other end of the road. Through eyes narrowed into a glare, he sees that the landscaper who works across the street has returned from a job.

Normally, Hendrik is not very concerned about security. After all, who would bother stealing from a budget crematorium on some side street too unimportant to even have its own name? That blue-haired hooligan across the street is who. As always, the bed of his beat-up truck is full of wrought iron decorations, lawn gnomes, and pieces of piping that had not been there when he’d left that morning. Hendrik slams his office window shut.

Erik barely spares a glance at the familiar sound of the crematorium window slamming shut upon his arrival. He is too busy trying to untangle a lawn gnome from the wrought iron prison that had fallen into place around it. Finally, he gives up and just rolls the entire heap of stolen shit over the side of the truck bed, onto the astro-turfed front lawn of his establishment. He retrieves a gnome dressed up in an orange-and-black tutu and with a skull painted over its face (it is April) and throws a tarp over the rest of the pile. With the crown jewel (the gnome) tucked safely under his arm, it is time to count his cash. 

Erik turns deliberately to face the crematorium and begins to count aloud, knowing his neighbor can’t hear him, but kinda hoping that he can. “Here’s a hundred for the mulching… Another… Ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five… $3,000 for the pond installation… And another three hundred from my…” He locks eyes with the crematorium owner through the slats of the blinds and yells the last part. “ _ Specialized skills! _ ” He knows that the crematorium owner knows that he’s a thief. He also knows that Arizona is a lawless land and the pigs won’t do shit about it.

From the entrance to the shop next door, Erik hears someone loudly slurping the last few drops of soda out of a Jack-in-the-Box cup. In one hand, the bystander holds xir bag of fast food. In the other, the keys to the sex shop. Erik notices the witness and waves awkwardly.

Eleven waves back, expressionless, then glances at the window his neighbor had been so focused on. Then, xi disappears into the sex shop. From the outside, xir neighbors see the neon signs (“ **XXXTREME CUM** ” and “ **OPEN for YOUR pleasure** ”) flicker on in front of the blacked out windows.

Hendrick closes his blinds, sick of staring at the thief, and there is a knock on his office door.

"E-excuse me, sir?" It's the oldest brother of the siblings Hendrick is serving. "It looks like the fire went out…"

"Ah," Hendrick replies, opening the door and walking out to talk to his customers. "The cremation is done. The only thing left for me to do is process and prepare the ashes. The process will take about two hours. You may come back later or wait here."

Outside, Erik realizes he is standing alone in the midday heat and decides to head inside.

\-----------

The sun is starting to set by the time Hendrick steps outside with his customers to exchange the urn for his payment and to bid them adieu. Erik happens to be outside at the same time, his head under the tarp as he digs through the day's treasures. He throws the tarp aside and catches the crematorium guy staring him down as he waves his customers goodbye. The customers drive away, the car passing between the two workers, and Hendrick is still staring afterwards.

“Uh, can I help you??” Erik shouts across the road.

“You can help those you’ve stolen from by returning what’s theirs,  _ thief, _ ” Hendrick snipes in the snootiest form of the accent he’d picked up (and then lost over the years) from studying abroad for two years in London.

Erik rolls his eyes. “Come on, man, what’s gone is gone.” Hendrick crosses his arms, unimpressed, but Erik just rephrases the statement: “What’s mine now is mine now!”

“I’ve half a mind to get law enforcement involved.”

“We really doing this today?  _ Again?? _ ” Erik throws his arms up, frustrated. “Can’t I just have some peace and quiet after a long day hard at work??”

“I do _ not  _ afford peace to  _ swine _ like yourself!”

“Look dude, why don’t you just mind your  _ own _ business?” Erik jabs a finger in the direction of the crematorium, his faint New Jersey-ish accent rearing its head in support. Hendrick snarls, prompting Erik to continue. “Aren’t you closing up for the day anyways? Why don’t you just drive off to your big, bougie house -- far away from where mine is, I’m sure -- and forget about it?”

In the stifling silence that coats the street, they can hear a bell ring from the entrance of the sex shop as the front door opens.

“Ah, our neighbor has emerged from his establishment; surely he has an opinion to share on this situation.” Hendrik crosses his arms and turns up his nose, certain that he has gained an ally.

“Xi,” Eleven corrects him.

“P-pardon?”

“My pronouns are xi/xem.”

“Oh. O-of course. My apologies.”

Erik reinserts himself into the conversation. “Yeah, I’m sure  _ xi’re _ here to tell you the same thing I am,” he gloats, as if anyone would actually believe that he knew Eleven’s pronouns in advance. Alas, Eleven has to correct Erik as well.

“It’s xi’s. Xi is. Singular.”

“Yeah; right. Xi is.” Erik doesn’t let the fumble shake his confidence.

Eleven stifles a smirk as xi rolls xir eyes. Hendrik and Erik both stare at xem as xi tucks a lock of straight, silky brown hair behind xir ear. It is so silky-smooth that it slips right back into xir face. Erik and Hendrik can’t help but make note of xir hands, as they are just a touch bigger and stronger than the rest of xir slender frame would suggest. Oh, and also because they’re just casually holding the plastic packaging containing a 7-inch long, very girthy dildo, the kind that has a hole through it so it can blow fake loads. No-one speaks for a moment.

“Well, have you anything to say about the landscaper’s misdeeds?” Hendrik finally prompts.

“I... don’t know what’s going on here,” says Eleven.

“He’s a thief! A scoundrel!” Hendrick exclaims, but Erik is already yelling before Hendrick finishes.

“All  _ I _ know is that none of you are taking me alive!” Erik dramatically drops into a fighting stance and points finger guns at each of his neighbors, first glaring at Hendrik, then glancing at Eleven in time to catch xem laughing. Forcing xemself to look serious again, Eleven plays along, aiming xir finger at Erik and xir dildo at Hendrik. Hendrick, confused, mimics them. They all hold their ground in a stand-off from across the street. A burgundy SUV cruises down the road between them, indifferent to their shenanigans. Nobody speaks.

Eleven looks Erik -- and his tangled pile of wrought iron and piping -- up and down, evaluating him. Everyone already knows Erik is a thief. Eleven does not see why it’s suddenly an issue  _ now _ , but resigns xemself to the fact that apparently it’s  _ xir _ issue now. Sensing that Eleven is  _ almost _ on his side, Erik tries to give xem a little nudge into ally territory: “Look, if they can afford landscaping, they can afford to lose a lawn gnome or two,” he says, shrugging with a distinct air of style and attitude. As Erik lowers his guard, Hendrick takes the opportunity to turn and focus on him. It’s a twitch reflex for Erik to raise and aim his finger guns again.

Eleven shrugs and drops xir arms to xir side. “I just came out here to go get my evening coffee, maybe see if either of you wanted to come with.” Erik and Hendrik, seeing the opportunity of a new conflict to get involved in, find it within themselves to lower their arms.

“Of course,” Hendrik blurts, his words are drowned out by Erik’s simultaneous and enthusiastic “Yeah! Sure!” The two glare at each other.

“I’d gladly take the opportunity to bond with a neighbor,” Hendrik continues.

“Pfft, like xi’d rather go with some crusty buzzkill like you, when he’s-”

“ _ Xi _ .”

“-xi’s got xir best bud right here,” Erik confidently points at himself. 

Eleven tries and fails to stop xemself from laughing at Erik’s claim. “Two years, we’ve worked next to each other! We’ve spoken  _ twice. _ Including right now.”

Eleven only laughs harder when xi turns to Hendrik and finds that he’s turned a faint shade of pink and has his fists clenched with determination.

“I would be happy to join you for coffee,” Hendrik mutters. No one would have heard him if the street hadn’t been completely devoid of anything else to listen to.

“Yeah, well, I would too.” Erik crosses his arms.

Eleven rolls xir eyes and shrugs again, stuffing xir keys and xir dildo into a bag at xir side. “Then all three of us can go.” Hopefully the offer will put an end to their stupid competition, but Eleven starts walking away posthaste, just in case it doesn’t.

“Great!” Erik growls. “It’s a date!”

“It’s  _ two separate dates, _ ” Hendrick insists. “You and I,” he points between himself and Erik. “Are  _ not _ together. It’s just each of us, and…” He suddenly realizes he doesn’t even know his new crush’s name.

“Are you coming or not?” xi yells from halfway down the street. “The cafe is just two blocks down this way.” Reluctantly, Erik and Hendrik both move to follow xem. 


	2. Obligatory Coffee 'Date'

It’s a little hole-in-the-wall type place, the cafe. It’s called Arboria. Eleven strides straight up to the door, leading the way for Erik and Hendrik to follow. They shoot each other a concerned glance, aware that neither of them have the home field advantage anymore.

A woman with blonde braids and bangs spilling out of a dark red beanie looks up from the counter as the trio walks in. She smiles. “Hey,  _ you _ !” She greets Eleven. Xi smiles back and raises a hand in greeting. The woman looks expectant as Eleven walks closer, and when xi finally leans up against the counter, xi retrieves the ‘merchandise’ from xir bag and slides it across the countertop to her. 

“Thaaank you,” she chimes, quickly stowing it away somewhere under the counter. “Your order’s on me today,” she says, her aggressively posh accent becoming obvious. She turns away to fidget with the coffee machines, and Eleven raises an eyebrow and snorts. The woman looks over her shoulder at xem and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, your order’s  _ always _ on the house, I know.”

Finally, she notices Eleven’s companions.

Hendrik is standing at attention, towering over everyone else in the cramped space. “Greetings,” he says, bowing his head and stiffly raising a hand in greeting.

Erik  _ has  _ to be more personable than Hendrik, so he crosses his arms and ankles and leans against the nearest wall, looking too cool for his own good. 

“Hey,” he croons. The woman laughs at them. 

“Friends of Eleven’s?” Eleven nods as the woman hands xem a styrofoam cup with a styrofoam lid that prevents anyone from seeing what’s inside.

“Pardon, friends of whom?” Hendrik asks, still looking around, slow to take in the decor. The walls are stucco and the tables are that plastic with the wood design that they use for school desks.

“Pft. Of ‘ _ whom... _ ’” Erik mocks Hendrik’s choice of words under his breath. Eleven ignores them and pulls out chairs for Erik and Hendrik at the table closest to the counter, and they come to sit when xi beckons.

“Ah. I suppose ‘friends’ is sort of a strong word…” says the barista.

Erik sits down and interlaces his fingers under his chin, his elbows on the table. “No it’s not. We’re best buds.”

“Riiiiight…” Says the woman, with a suspicious glare at Erik. “Well, this is Eleven, and my name is Veronica; I run the place. What can I get you all today?”

“Erm…” Hendrik is clearly still trying to gather his bearings in his new surroundings. “Grant me a moment to peruse the menu?”

Veronica gives him a weird look. “Uhhh... sure. Menu’s just a suggestion, though. I can make pretty much whatever you want. Think about it.” With that, Veronica vanishes into a back room, leaving the table to its awkward silence.

Erik’s fingers have found their way upwards, covering his mouth, and finally he mutters through them: “...My name’s Erik.”

“Oh!” Hendrik goes pale at the realization that he had forgotten his manners. “A-hem. Erik. I had not realized that we’d neglected our proper introductions. I am Hendrik Heliod, proud heir of my family’s cremation business, third generation running.”

“Right. And I’m the lying, cheating lowlife who works across the street.” Erik puts his hand out for Hendrik to shake it. “Nice to meet you.” Hendrik has one of those handshakes that, in theory, gets people hired on the spot. Erik has one of those handshakes that suggests your watch will be on his wrist by the time you let go. Out of a desire to appease Eleven, Erik leaves Hendrik’s fancy rose gold smartwatch where it is.

They only break eye contact to look at Eleven, who has just finished putting a thing of creamer into xir drink, which is revealed to have been plain black coffee. “And you are… Eleven?” Hendrik hazards to confirm. Eleven nods.

“Pleasure to meet you!” Erik leans in across the table, grinning ear to ear. Eleven calmly sips xir coffee.

“Nice to meet you two, too.”

Veronica returns from the back room. “Are you all going to order something, or what?”

“Ah, yes,” Hendrik starts, sitting up a bit straighter. “I’ll have…” He clears his throat, his eyes darting to the side to gauge the others’ reactions to his order. “A mochachino? With oat milk, please, if you have it.” He looks to Erik, silently begging him to place his own order and take the attention off of him.

“Just… water for me.” Veronica raises an eyebrow at Erik’s request, as do Eleven and Hendrik.

“Are you sure? We have decaf if that’s what you’re worried-”

Erik shrugs. “Fine.  _ Hot _ water, then.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets, which Hendrick notices don’t seem to have anything in them.

“No wallet?” He asks, his voice low.

“No money,” Erik grumbles back, pretending the exchange isn’t audible.

“No… hm.” Everyone stands by silently as Hendrik seems to calculate the volume of a cone  _ or something _ in his head. Finally, he offers to pay for Erik’s drink. “Order whatever you want,” he tells Erik, shoving a hand into his pocket to retrieve his wallet.

Erik looks almost offended at the offer, and Veronica steps in to mediate. “Hey, it’s on the house anyw-” Hendrik cuts her off.

“No, no, I couldn’t possibly take advantage of your hospitality like that,” he protests.

Eleven and Veronica exchange a knowing glance about how much this literally does not matter. Pretty much anything Erik can order isn’t gonna break ten bucks.

Erik clicks his tongue, eying Hendrik with some suspicion. “Alright. I’ll take you up on that.” As Hendrik finally pulls his wallet out (it is made of shiny, black leather), Erik turns to Veronica and starts ordering. “I will have… a cappuccino with cinnamon mixed into the foam, with cold brew instead of espresso, and…”

Veronica scribbles down the order, her eyes quietly lighting up at the challenge. She nods when Erik finally stops talking, then walks away. Eleven quietly continues to sip xir drink as Erik clears his throat and glances around. Realizing that he doesn’t need it quite yet, Hendrik sets his wallet down on the table in front of him and starts tracing his finger over the fake wood grains of the table. “Sooooo…” He starts, turning to Erik. “You’ve been running your business for two years?”

“Yup.” Erik doesn’t quite look at Hendrik as he replies. He’s looking at Eleven, and starts to notice what a baby face xi has; perfectly smooth skin and big, round eyes. Then he looks at Hendrik, whose age is obvious on his face. His purple beard is dull and coarse, and his jaw is square and sturdy from years of being sternly clenched. “Quick question, how old is everybody?” Erik hazards to ask.

“I’m 26,” Eleven answers easily.

While Hendrik is busy hesitating, Erik pipes in, relieved. “Ah, nice. I’m 27.” The two twenty-somethings look to Hendrik expectantly.

“36,” he finally admits. The other two hum in acknowledgment, but they are at least not quite as taken aback as he was afraid they would be. He’s not even sure if the three of them are technically on a ‘date’ right now, but he still can’t stop himself from cautiously asking, “This isn’t... Weird, is it?”

Erik and Eleven shake their heads. Finding the kindness within himself to  _ not _ make Hendrik any more nervous than he already is, Erik just chuckles and lets Eleven do the reassuring. Xi shrugs. “I mean, we’re all adults here.”

Hendrik nods and starts to relax, but he does  _ not _ like how Eleven chooses that exact moment to excuse xemself to the restroom. Veronica must’ve overheard Erik asking about Eleven’s age, because Erik can hear her teasing xem about xir baby face as xi walks past the counter, into the back of the cafe. Rolling xir eyes, Eleven playfully shoos her away, but she still has to wait for xem to get out of her way before she can approach the table, a cup in each hand.

Before Veronica arrives, Hendrik cranes his neck in an attempt to see which gendered bathroom Eleven chooses to associate xemself with. Fortunately for xem, though, the bathrooms are not gendered at all. Veronica glides up to the table and sets down the drinks, and Hendrik calls her name to stop her from walking away. “Um, how-” He nods quickly towards his drink. “First of all, thank you. And, um… How…” He lowers his voice and thinks way too hard about how to word it. “How do you refer to Eleven?”

“By xir name? Obviously.” She loudly answers it like it’s the stupidest thing she’s ever been asked. 

“No, I mean, is xi more like…” He gestures vaguely to himself and then to Veronica as if they are each symbols of their respective genders. Obviously, Veronica has no idea what Hendrik is trying to communicate, so she just cocks an eyebrow and shakes her head as she walks away.

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Erik has apparently already found his own solution to Hendrik’s predicament. He puts his feet up on the fourth chair at the table. “I just gotta get the pronouns down. I just keep telling myself, ‘ _ Xi’s _ cute, don’t scare  _ xem _ off.’” Hendrik nods in agreement as Eleven reappears and returns to the table.

Erik is the first one to pick up his drink. He must not feel its heat through the styrofoam cup, because he immediately goes to take a sip, and then has to carefully slam the cup back down as he sticks out his burnt tongue and curses under his breath.

The second Erik seems to recover, Hendrik shifts his gaze from the swirls of milk and flavoring in the cup, up to Erik himself. “So, how exactly did you fail to steal enough to pay for a cup of coffee?” he presses. Eleven sighs. Just when xi thought they were starting to get along.

Erik sighs even louder. “Well gee, it’s not like I have  _ rent _ to pay  _ first, _ or anything. Or like I need to actually  _ resell _ my stuff before it turns into money.” 

“Don’t you have anything left over from every other burglary you’ve committed?”

Other than growling at it, Erik ignores the question. “Hendrik, why don’t you tell me about  _ yourself _ for a second?” He asks instead.

Hendrik stutters. “Um, what about me?”

“Liiiiike, do you wake up  _ every _ morning and decide to cause problems?” snipes Erik.

Hendrik looks disgusted. “Do  _ you? _ ” He sips his mocha angrily (and carefully).

Eleven’s cup is half empty by now, and xi swirls the liquid around the bottom of the cup contemplatively before xi intervenes. “So,  _ normal  _ question: what are your families like? Any siblings?”

Hendrik is quick to forget about Erik and answer Eleven’s question. “I’m adopted, actually.” Eleven nods from behind xir cup, xir interest obviously piqued. “I grew up with another adopted brother, and we had a young foster sister for a short time in our adolescence.”

“Wow, that’s really interesting,” xi says, smiling. “My older sister is adopted, too. Her name’s Jade.”

“Are you guys close?” Erik asks quietly. Eleven tilts xir head indecisively, but eventually nods before turning back to Hendrik.

“Jade?” Hendrik asks. “She wouldn’t happen to have dark hair, purple eyes..?” Eleven raises xir eyebrows in surprise.

“No way.” Xi laughs in disbelief. “We have a foster sister in common?”

Hendrik laughed along. “I suppose we do.”

Meanwhile, Erik is staring down at the table as if there’s something he wants to say, but he stays silent.

“Erik?” Hendrik prompts. Eleven uses the lull in conversation to check xir phone. “How about you?” Erik looks up, an inscrutable look on his face. “Or is it just something you don’t want used against you in a court of law?” Hendrik scoffs, wrinkling his nose at Erik when he still doesn’t say anything.

Erik kicks him under the table, then quickly deflects the question. “Hey, uh, Eleven, when do you need to be back at your shop?” In response, Eleven holds up xir phone to show Erik a timer with about 10 minutes remaining on it. “Ah. We should probably start heading back pretty soon then, huh?” Erik starts chugging his drink, wincing through it, before anyone can disagree with him. 

Hendrik looks to Eleven for direction to see xem slipping xir phone back into xir pocket and gulping down the last bit of xir coffee. Only then does xi nod in response to Erik’s suggestion. Hendrik secures the lid on his drink before standing up with everyone else.

As Erik leads the small herd towards the exit, Eleven comes up from behind and slips Hendrik’s nearly-forgotten wallet into his hand with a kind smile. Hendrik blinks, then pockets his wallet and returns the smile, announcing, “Well, this was fun. It was nice finally getting to know you two.”

Erik turns around to respond. Leaning back against the wall next to the doorway, he lets Eleven and Hendrik walk out first as he scoffs. “No need to sugar-coat it,” he says with just the slightest hint of a growl at the end, as he and Hendrik glare into each other’s eyes behind Eleven’s back on their way out.


	3. Can't Buy Xir Love (lotsa other stuff for sale tho ;)

Erik and Hendrik had glared across the street at each other as they arrived at their respective businesses that morning, just as they had done the morning before, and the morning before that, and pretty much every morning since that weird three-way coffee date they’d gone on a week ago. That’s all it had been so far, just the standard glares across the road, maybe a couple discreet middle fingers from Erik, and a few pretty standard instances of Hendrik slamming the blinds and window shut when he tired of watching the thief dig through his haul for the day.

Today, though, Hendrik crossed a line. It was right after some customers had departed from his crematorium, and clearly he thought he’d have some time before he had to talk to anyone else, when Erik saw him cross the street and walk into the sex shop.

Erik had been sitting in his truck, texting back and forth with the people relevant to his next gig, when he saw it. Sure, Erik had been planning on visiting the shop, too -- after work, of course. Going in on a lunch break, though? Barely an hour after Eleven opened for the day? That’s just wrong. 

He scowls and shakes his head, putting his phone away mid-text without a second thought. He grumbles under his breath about ‘bastard’ this and ‘cheater’ that, as he unbuckles and hops out of his car, then marches over to the sex shop next door.

The bell rings unceremoniously as Erik flings the door open and stands there like someone’s about to get their ass kicked. Two long, low shelves (stocked mostly with flashy brands of lube and condoms) flank the entryway and lead up towards the cash register, behind which Eleven sits, disinterested. Hendrik, on the other hand… That purple-haired bastard is standing in front of a wall of porn directly to the right, a DVD case in hand, staring at Erik like a deer in headlights, nothing but the low shelf between them. 

The moment lasts exactly as long as it needs to, and then they both relax into a more inconspicuous posture. Hendrik smooths his hair back and resumes browsing the porn DVDs, trading the copy of _Meat Handlers_ in his hand for something else, then looking some more. Erik walks forward with a suspicious side-eye trained on Hendrik the whole time, as if expecting some sort of ambush.

Eleven is reclined in xir chair with xir face hidden behind a large, thin book that’s missing its cover and thus its title. Xi’s wearing black leggings and a plain tunic with xir leather bag fastened loosely around xir waist, making the leg xi has propped up on the counter look miles long. Erik sidles up to the side and tries to ask xem as casually as possible, “Hey, uh, you got any buttplugs in stock?” He can just barely see Eleven’s eyes from the side past xir curtain of brown hair as xi silently points somewhere off to the right.

It’s already a small store, even before the strange entryway divides it into left and right halves, so heading to the far right corner to half-interestedly inspect Eleven’s stock of anal toys does not put very much distance between Erik and Hendrik. Erik keeps looking over at the other man between checking prices on various toys. Adding a second DVD to his hand the same way one might draw a card while playing Go Fish, Hendrik glances over at Erik, and catches Erik already glancing over at him.

“So. What brings you here?” Hendrik asks, imposing.

“Oh, you know.” Erik turns his shoulder towards Hendrik, thinking himself sly. “Just looking to spice things up with my husband.”

Hendrik blinks in surprise, dropping both his DVDs along with his intimidation act. “You’re  _ married?” _ he blurts. Even Eleven is peeking over xir book to see how Erik answers.

Erik shrugs in that way that he does. “Yeah, I needed health insurance.” Catching Eleven’s eye, he hastily adds, “I mean, it’s nothing serious or anything! Just… Friends, with… Tax benefits.” He grins at Eleven, who returns to xir book. “Why are  _ you _ here?” Erik asks Hendrik while he’s knelt down to pick up his copies of  _Amature Group Sex_ and  _Twink-dom Kingdom_ . He stands up, holding the products like playing cards again: close to his chest, as if Erik can’t just read the back of the cases.

Hendrick stalls by glancing around the room, hesitant to answer. Neither the sexy shopkeep to his side nor the pornography in his hands offer him any plausible deniability. He tries to flatten down the front of his slacks. “...Personal reasons,” he finally answers.

“Well, I can’t imagine anyone buying porn for  _business_ reasons,” Erik scoffs. He crosses the room, into Hendrik’s personal space. “Who even  _buys_ porn, anyways?” He reaches to tilt Hendrik’s DVD into view, just to harass him, but Hendrik scowls as he spins away to dodge.

“It’s about supporting the creators and local businesses,” Hendrik retorts defensively.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Erik teases, advancing further on Hendrik. “So do you also rent out a strip club every year for Small Business Saturday, or what?”

“ _Some people_ make their living off of  _willingly_ paying customers, and I don’t mind supporting that.” 

Erik opens his mouth to mock him again, when Hendrik suddenly remembers that whole ‘intimidation’ shtick that his height and his brick-wall-build were lending so much credence to before he started letting this overgrown street urchin back him into a corner. Hendrik cuts Erik off. “You need to get away from me.” He punctuates the statement by shoving Erik away.

Erik stumbles back a bit before he’s able to find his footing in a fighting stance, one hand shooting to his waist. Before he pulls his utility knife from his toolbelt, though, he glances over at Eleven, who seems to be shooting the two of them a warning look, and he decides to stand down. Hendrik notices it too, and with one more pointed glare, he turns his back to Erik.

Erik sulks back over to the anal toys, smoothing down his ratty old olive green t-shirt, as if smoothing it down could somehow make the giant tear down the middle of the neckline look any better. He eventually picks out a plain blue plug from CalExcotics with segments of varying size that give it a beaded shape. It’s only 15 bucks, so with another longing glance at Eleven, he decides to buy one more thing and heads to the other side of the store, where all the gag gifts are. It’s also where all the lingerie is, and he and Hendrik both sigh when they realize they’re walking towards the same side of the store again.

“You’re keeping an eye on him, right?” Hendrik whispers to Eleven as he passes by the counter. Eleven lowers xir book and just stares at Hendrik for a second, but Hendrik can’t decipher whether he shouldn’t have asked because it was rude of him, or if he shouldn’t have asked because Eleven already knows. “Sorry, I was just-” Eleven waves it off, and Hendrik decides to cut his losses there and keep on walking over towards some fun, colorful jockstraps.

The gag gifts are…  _frighteningly_ heterosexual, but Eleven is just doing what xi has to do to appeal to the clientele available out here in Fuck Off, Arizona. The shelves are lined with all the random objects that anyone had ever thought to shape into a dick or a boob: stress balls, balloons, keychains, candies, straws, birthday candles… Less remarkable but almost as prolific are all the objects anyone had ever thought to print some clipart of a dick or boobs onto: greeting cards, towels, mugs, shot glasses, water bottles… A lot of beverage containers, actually.

Erik struggles to resist quietly pocketing some of the stupid little trinkets, if only to have a laugh about them with his friends later. Eleven  _is,_ however, keeping an eye on him, so he keeps glancing sideways at xem and then setting the merchandise back on its shelf. He decides on a frosted glass shot glass with a sexy silhouette of a woman pole dancing on one side and an equally sexy silhouette of a pole dancing man printed opposite of her. 

He still takes the time to finish browsing, mouthing the words of some ‘comedic’ decorative signs as he comes across them on the bottom shelf. Most of them are about how fun getting drunk and being a horny jackass is, a few are about how awful and controlling wives are, and he’s on one titled “International Rules of Manhood” as Hendrik’s browsing brings him within earshot of Erik.

“ _If you compliment a guy on his six-pack, you’d better be talking about his choice of beer,_ ” Erik reads aloud. He couldn’t roll his eyes harder if he tried. “Christ, Eleven, why do you stock this stuff? I thought you were better than this.”

When Eleven actually laughs a little bit, Hendrik looks up and pipes in, trying to mimic Erik’s mock disappointment. “Unfortunate; I was also led to believe that you were a m--” Meeting Eleven’s eyes reminds Hendrik that xi might not really be a ‘man,’ per se, so now he needs to come up with a gender neutral alternative to ‘man of good taste,’ fast, before his string of false starts and nonsense sounds can go on any longer. “Ah, bluh-- um, a, ha...  _Harbinger_ , of good taste.” Well, he supposes a slightly surprised if otherwise blank expression on Eleven’s face is better than a hurt or angry one. Hendrik ducks his head and goes to stand in the corner of the store, hoping to disappear into the wall somehow.

He has to walk by Erik to get there, and the tension is palpable as Erik stands there, waiting for the opportunity to stab him in the back ( _hopefully_ metaphorically) as he retreats. So, instead, Hendrik turns and stands his ground. He stops right at Erik’s side and now they are both standing there, looking down at the horrible signs together. 

Hendrik, who was raised so boring that he wouldn’t know ‘be gay do crimes’ if it pulled a knife on him in a sex shop, actually, genuinely chuckles at a few points while reading, and then looks up at Eleven with a very sincere, very hesitant smile and says, “Well, I guess I still believe it.”

Erik, of course, scoffs. “Come on man, this straight shit? Really?” Erik reaches out to harass Hendrik about his porn again. “I didn’t get the impression that that’s what you’d be into, judging by…” Hendrik pulls his DVDs away from Erik. 

“I’m not-- I mean… If Eleven stocks these, then surely  _xi_ thinks they’re worthwhile; it’s just a matter of preference.” 

Erik crosses his arms and gets that look on his face again, like he’s out for blood (or  _at least_ sweat or tears). “Yeah, like I guess if you prefer fucking women over talking to them--”

Hendrik’s not doing this, not getting into another petty squabble again. He talks right past Erik, directly to Eleven. “Right, Eleven? It’s just a matter of... What are your preferences?” Erik follows Hendrik’s gaze over to Eleven, a little offended and already planning a new quip to mock Hendrik for even attempting such a move.

To their surprise, Eleven actually answers, bluntly: “I like men.”

Xi answers it so certainly, with so much heft behind the word  _‘men,’_ that Hendrik immediately flushes red. Xi even puts xir book down and leans forward on the counter, and when xir piercing blue eyes meet Hendrik’s, his heart jumps in his chest. Only once Eleven’s gaze shifts over to Erik does Hendrik relax  _just_ enough to blubber out, “Y-yes, I do too.” He again considers that maybe Eleven wouldn’t call xemself a man, and Hendrik doesn’t wanna discourage xem or anything, so he thinks about amending a, “and people like you,” to the end of his statement, but wait, shit, is that too forward?  _ Xi’s cute, don’t scare xem off. _

Erik, on the other hand, with his head held high and his hand on his hip, declares, “Ah. Well, I’m just into people who are hot. Y’know... like you.” He delivers the line suavely, perfectly, and then ruins it with a cheesy wink right at the end. In a surprise double twist, though, Eleven has already occupied xemself with something below the counter, so xi doesn’t see the wink, and the pickup line actually manages to land! Maybe. It’s hard to tell while the target is hidden behind a counter.

Erik and Hendrik glance at each other in the ensuing silence, as if to confirm their fellow witness still exists. “O- _kay_ , then.” Erik finally exhales. “Alright.” He runs his fingers through his own hair and shakes his head, trying to refocus. Hendrik doesn’t say anything; he just breathes deeply and hopes Erik doesn’t notice how hard he’s blushing (Erik notices. It’s kind of hard to miss.). Whether or not he does, Erik doesn’t say anything about it, and instead wordlessly walks over to the cash register to check out. Eleven sets xir book aside, and finally Erik is able to catch a glimpse of its contents: diagrams and descriptions of dinosaur anatomy.

The checkout process is quick, as Eleven punches something into the register without even touching the products Erik sets down in front of xem. Xi shows Erik the total, then turns to scribble something down in what looks like a leger behind xem while Erik digs out his money. A 20 dollar bill quickly passes from Erik’s hand to Eleven’s, which is still holding the pencil. Eleven stashes it in the till, scoops Erik’s purchases into a black bag, then briefly examines the scrap of paper that comes out of the receipt slot before ripping it off and handing it all over to Erik.

The two of them nod at each other, and Erik steps aside. He doesn’t leave yet; he’s waiting, so that he can make sure Hendrik leaves, too. Oblivious, Hendrik steps up to the register next and repeats the same process Erik went through, though it seems a little less hurried this time as  _Twink-dom Kingdom_ and  _Amature Group Sex_ lay front side up, in full view on the counter, along with a jockstrap with an almost lacy front and criss-crossing straps of bold red elastic. Hendrik doesn’t actually look at the total, he just inserts his debit card and takes a deep breath as he enters his PIN and waits for it to go through. Next thing he’s aware of, Eleven is holding out the black bag, waiting for him to take it.

Hendrik starts to walk away, head ducked. With one more deep breath, though, he finds his courage and slowly turns halfway towards Eleven. “Eleven,” he says. Xi doesn’t look up from that damn book, but xi makes a sound of acknowledgement nonetheless. Hendrik rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t suppose you have, uh… That there’s some way I could contact you? Outside of business hours, I mean.”

“Check your receipt.”

Hendrik tilts his head, confused, but fishes his receipt out of his bag as instructed. Across the bottom of it, ten digits are scribbled on by hand in pencil; a phone number. Suddenly, he’s blushing again. By the look on Hendrik’s face, Erik knows what’s up and his eyes go wide with anticipation as he burrows into his own bag to check his receipt, too. His eyes dart over it, and then pause at the bottom.

Eleven is still acting aloof behind xir book as Erik and Hendrik stand there staring at each other, awestruck. They just stand there, considering their victory for a moment, until Erik’s phone starts ringing from his back pocket. He blinks himself back into reality and stuffs the receipt into the pocket he takes his phone out of. 

“I, ah… I gotta take this,” he mutters, bringing the phone up to his ear and scuttling towards the exit as he answers. Hendrik watches him go, mutters a quick ‘thank you’ to Eleven, then follows Erik out, oblivious to the grin Eleven has hidden behind xir book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! First of all thanks for reading this far and happy holidays if you're actually reading these as I post them lol  
> Second of all, I went to my own local sex shop for references and found a bunch of porn titles that were too Straight to include in this chapter or just otherwise didn't fit, but are funny enough that I really wanna share them anyways: _Mike's Sexual Seductions, City of Boys, The BANG Theory, Paint This Face, Meat Curtains, Furry Young Americans, The Best of Footville,_ and _Puffy Tits_ (presumably perfect for puff puff)  
> So... Yeah! Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter! Another one will be up next Tuesday again as always =)


	4. omg lol i h8 formatting txting XD

  
_[928-555-5555]_  
_hey it’s erik_

  
_Oh hey. Hows it going?_

Eleven quickly punches the new number into xir contacts before another text pops up.

_[623-555-5555]_  
_Eleven?_

  
_Yup thats me_

  
_Hi. This is Hendrik._

  
_Cool, gotcha_

Again, Eleven makes a new contact, for Hendrik this time. Xir phone lights up with more messages in the middle of making it.

_[Erik]_  
_goin alright, just tryna relax at home right now_  
_so uh_  
_has hendrik texted you yet?_

In fact, at that moment, Hendrik is calling xem. Xi answers the phone, quickly putting it on speaker so xi can text Erik back to tell him that yes, xi was talking to Hendrik as well.

“Hello?"

“Hey, Hendrik. What’s up?”

Hendrik lets out a relieved breath upon hearing Eleven’s voice. “Ah, nothing really. I just prefer calling to texting.” Eleven hums and nods, understanding. Of course, Hendrik does not see the gesture, and it takes him a moment to start talking again. “Um. How are you?”

“I’m good. Still at the shop.”

“Oh! I hope I’m not bothering you.” Again, Eleven just shakes xir head with a small noise that Hendrik couldn’t possibly pick up on over the phone. “If you need to hang up, that’s f-”

“You’re fine. Keep talking.”

“Oh- okay. So... I was just wondering if Erik has contacted you yet?”

_[Erik]_  
_lmfao im surprised that guy knows how to text_

Eleven reads the text and then responds to Hendrik: “Yeah, he’s texting me right now.”

“I see.” Hendrik pauses again to mull over the information, and in the silence, he can hear Eleven’s fingers flitting around the keyboard, typing a response to Erik. “What’s he…” Hendrik starts to ask, then he bitterly cuts himself off and says “Well, if you’d rather talk to him instead of me, that’s-”

“Hendrik, stop. That self-pity shit is not a good look on anyone.”

“My apologies.”

“It’s okay. Hold on a sec, though.”

_[Erik]_  
_he’s CALLING you?_  
_like on the phone? with his voice?_

_Yeah were talking rn_

_seriously? whats he even got to say?_

Eleven sighs, already tired of these two hitting xem up just to ask about each other. Xi finishes typing a keysmash and presses send on that first message in a group text with all three of them.

_[Erik]_  
_uh. 11? who tf?_  
_[Hendrik]_  
_I’m wondering the same thing about you._

“It’s Erik,” Eleven answers Hendrik’s question over the phone. It sounds like Hendrik holds the phone an arm’s length away as he loudly groans.

Back at a normal distance, he elaborates: “I really would’ve preferred if he didn’t have my phone number.”

Eleven shrugs. “You seemed pretty interested a second ago.”

_[Erik]_  
_i asked first 👀_  
_[Hendrik]_  
_Nevermind, I already know it’s you, Erik. This is Hendrik._  
_[Erik]_  
_🤦_  
_uggghhh 11 why would you trap me here with him_

  
_Relax drama king its just a group chat_  
_You 2 wanna know about each other so bad_  
_Just talk to each other you don’t need a middleperson_  
_Btw you can shorten it to El instead of to 11 lol_

Eleven looks up reflexively at the sound of the entry bell. “I gotta go, Hendrik. Got a customer,” xi hastily mutters into the phone. Before xir fingers can find the button to hang up, though, the customer, an utterly unremarkable man who looks to be transitioning from his 30’s to his 40’s, confidently strides up to the counter and asks Eleven, “Hey man, do you know what the hours are for the crematorium across the street?”

“Uhhhh,” Eleven blinks, then ducks down towards xir phone. “Hey, what are your business hours?”

“Tomorrow is… Wednesday?” Hendrik replies, unphased. “So, normal hours. I’ll be open from 8AM until 6PM.” Eleven holds up the phone and indicates it with a “there ya go” sort of gesture.

“Thanks, dude.” The longer Eleven looks at the customer, the more obvious it is that he’s some kind of inebriated, which xi’s grown to expect of customers who come in after dark. “Yeah, my mom’s on the way out. I’ve been sitting at the hospital with her all fuckin’ week, so fuck yeah I’ll volunteer to make the arrangements if it means I get a break from watching her rot away,” he explains, slapping a pack of condoms down on the counter. Eleven quietly hangs up on Hendrik and rings up the condoms. Xi can’t really provide much in the way of comfort for this complete stranger, so hopefully the alcohol and sex are doing it for him.

Eleven turns xir head back down to the new group chat as the customer saunters out. Hendrik and Erik are both typing, clearly considering whether or not it’s a good idea to attack each other in writing right where Eleven can see it. Eleven starts typing xemself, and the typing bubbles vanish almost instantly.

_So I was thinking we could do something together_

  
_[Erik]_  
_like a date? ;)_  
_[Hendrik]_  
_Obviously “like a date.”_  
_When and what were you thinking, Eleven?_

  
_Maybe we can go to a park or something_  
_Im free on thursdays_

The responses from the boys come quick and uncoordinated, like novice fencers trying to impress their parents.

_[Erik]_  
_ye thursdays great_  
_[Hendrik]_  
_I have Saturdays off; could we make that work?_  
_[Erik]_  
_thursdays my early closing day anyways so thats perfect_  
_[Hendrik]_  
_I have normal business hours on Thursdays._  
_A dinner date or some similar evening activity is_  
_possible this Thursday for me._  
_[Erik]_  
_nah dude saturdays my hustle day_  
_thursday i can meet u in the park late afternoon_  
_maybe like 4 so that its starting to cool down_

  
_Ha, I still got meal plan food to last me through_  
_saturday. Im not eating out on thursday_

  
_[Erik]_  
_u can bring that meal plan food along to a picnic tho_  
_in the park_  
_this thursday :)_  
_[Hendrik]_  
_Dinner date on Saturday, then?_  
_[Erik]_  
_shut up dude were trying to plan a picnic here_

  
_Meeting in the park late afternoon does sound nice._  
_Hendrik we can plan something else ig_

  
_[Hendrik]_  
_Which park?_  
_[Erik]_  
_cool El see you thursday :)_  
_[Hendrik]_  
_So when do I get to see you?_

  
_Uhhh_  
_MAYBE dinner date on Saturday._

  
_[Erik]_  
_hendrik im flattered but u get to see me never_  
_stay tf outta my business lol_  
_El and i are tryna schedule OUR date, figure ur own shit out_  
_also wait el i cant do anything saturday_

  
_Yeah and Hendrik cant do anything thursday_

  
_[Hendrik]_  
_…_  
_Fine. I’ll close the crematorium early and meet you both at_  
_the park on Thursday afternoon._  
_So. Which park?_

After a bit more back and forth that continues well past _**XXXTREME CUM**_ ’s closing time, the three of them manage to agree on a park that’s a little closer to Hendrik’s house than to the three businesses. Hendrik is completely right that the nearest park is trash, mostly a sprawl of dead grass with hardly even any trees for shade, but it still takes some convincing to get the other two to agree to the much more well-cared-for, well-funded park just outside their area code. 

Even though it’s past midnight as Eleven drives home, xi still gets over a dozen new messages from the boys during just the time it takes to get to xir apartment. Xi can’t imagine what they could possibly still be on about now that the plans are solidified, and xi isn’t terribly interested in finding out. Buuuut, xi’s got some time to kill during xir bedtime routine, so xi idly skims the backlog of bitching as xi brushes xir teeth and changes into pajamas. Once xi reaches the end and everything is marked read, xi sends one last message as xi crawls into bed.

_Okay, guys. Cove Nixon park. This thursday, 4pm. See you then._  
_And tomorrow, i guess._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woof, the formatting on this chapter was a _nightmare_ @_@ Google Docs and the AO3 text editor are NOT friends.  
> I think I will be finding a slightly different way to format the text conversations in the future...  
> Anyways, that's just one of the reasons that not much happens in this chapter. I intended chapter 4 to include them actually going on the date they plan here but uh turns out that would've made this chapter like twice as long as any of the others and also its Tuesday and I don't have that part done yet, so y'all just have to wait til next week sorry lol


	5. Crimes in the Park <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH I'm so sorry this chapter is so late!!! Last Tuesday I didn't have it done in time because I just started a new job (which I work from home for, so that makes these past few days That Much Worse) so I was gonna wait til this Tuesday but I woke up Tuesday morning and my whole entire power was out due to windstorms and it was supposed to be off til Thursday but it was back on Wednesday morning so I was like "oh great this means I have all day to do anything I need to do over the internet" and then at 9:30am on Wednesday my internet went out!!!! And stayed out all day!!! So yeah!!!! This chapter's late, and it's long, and I didn't get a lot of chance to edit the back half of it. Hopefully it was worth the wait =w=  
> (btw, next week's chapter is probably gonna be a week late, too. Usually I already have chapters like 70% written when I post the chapter that came before it (ie, when I posted chapter 1, I was actually already done with chapter 2) but the whole reason I was late this time is cause I burned through that head start lol)  
> Okay sorry the A/N is so long I'll let y'all get to the chapter now

The next two days pass by uneventfully (even Erik and Hendrik manage to act civil in front of Eleven on Wednesday) until finally Erik is starting his last job of the day on Thursday.

_ [Erik] _

_ hey el were still planning on 4 for the park yeah? _

_ Yeah _

_ [Erik] _

_ alright im gonna be coming straight from a job then _

_ i hope you dont mind im gonna be kinda sweaty n stuff 😅 _

_ ur bringing the food right? _

_ i can pick something up on my way over if not _

_ i dont mind _

_ Lol its alright. I have food _

_ Just hope u like beans and rice and salad _

_ [Erik] _

_ yeah thats fine :) _

_ [Hendrik] _

_ I brought an extra large lunch to work today _

_ So I have leftovers to eat. _

_ You don’t need to worry about feeding me. _

_ 👍 _

_ Btw, erik _

_ Whyd u text this in the group chat _

_ [Erik] _

_ uh _

_ i mean _

_ u put us here _

_ i assumed this was how you want us to contact you _

It’s a better reason than “to make Hendrik jealous,” at least.

About three hours later, Eleven and Erik are arriving at the park. They shoot a few texts back and forth to figure out where  _ exactly _ the other one is, and by 4:07PM, they lock eyes from across a span of grass. Erik smiles and waves, and Eleven moves to do the same, but xi has to slam xir arm back down to catch the picnic blanket as it is released from xir hold. Erik chuckles as they start walking towards each other. 

“This seem like a good enough place to set up?” Erik asks after the initial ‘hello’s once they meet. Eleven shrugs, and they glance around for a few seconds until Eleven spots a shady spot a few yards away from a jogging path and gestures towards it. Erik nods. The spot isn’t really a long enough walk away for him to offer to carry anything, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets and follows behind Eleven, who opens xir arms to drop everything and then starts spreading out the blanket.

Xi knows what xi’s doing, and is honestly thankful that Erik doesn’t put xem in a position where xi has to let him help. Instead, Erik just checks his phone and then tries to start up a conversation. “So, looks like Hendrik’s gonna be running late.”

Eleven sets one of the tote bags on a corner of the blanket as xi looks up at Erik, then pulls out xir phone to check the texts xemself. “Huh,” xi says. “Wonder what kind of ‘incident at the crematorium’ could be keeping him.”

“Probably something ghoulish,” Erik jokes. “Maybe even something that ‘gets law enforcement involved.’” He drops his voice as low as he can in a mockery of Hendrik’s grave demeanor, and Eleven can’t help but laugh along with him. Erik highlights the effortlessness of the joke with a shrug before moving the conversation along. “Ah, well. At least it means we get a little time alone.” Even as Eleven nods, still smiling as xi starts laying out the tupperwares of food, a trio of joggers pass by them on one side as a parent and child walk by on the other. 

Sure, they aren’t  _ alone _ , but Eleven knows what Erik means: xi actually has a chance to see what Erik’s like outside of antagonizing their mutual work neighbor.

Eleven peels open a container of beans and rice and pats the blanket to invite Erik down with xem, but he’s too focused on an approaching jogger to notice. “So, since Hendrik’s not here, you wanna see something cool?” he asks.

Eleven tilts xir head curiously. “Sure.”

Smirking, Erik sort of dances in place like he’s warming up for something as he waits for the jogger to be just within arm’s reach. He mouths the word, “yoink,” and with a movement so natural it hardly seems like he’s  _ doing _ anything, he slips the stranger’s wallet out of his back pocket. Holding it up in front of Eleven, he grins ear to ear, catching xem looking captivated by the trick. The jogger keeps on jogging, completely oblivious.

Before the victim can get too far, Erik lazily runs after him, wallet held out in front of him. “Excuse me, sir! You dropped this!” he calls out. Erik returns the stranger’s wallet and graciously accepts his confused ‘thank you,’ then runs back to the picnic blanket, where Eleven is cracking open more pre-portioned dishes, still a weird mixture of hot and cold from the microwave. “I probably could’ve gotten away with it,” Erik brags, claiming his own meal. “But, I mean. Why risk it? What’s the point?” Eleven nods along.

“Looks like you’ve had a lot of practice with that.” Xi meets Erik’s eyes as xi hands him a plastic spork. Erik looks away humbly, but still nods to confirm it.

“Oh, yeah. Tons. But also, the back pocket’s actually pretty easy to snach from. Didn’t wanna try anything harder and end up looking like a dunce if I screwed up.” Nodding thoughtfully, Eleven takes a bite of beans. “It’s still pretty impressive, though, right?” He waits until Eleven makes an affirmative sound before continuing. “Ha, really it’s nothing much. I bet I could even teach you to do it.”

“To get myself in trouble, you mean?” Eleven teases, a mischievous glint lighting up in xir eye. Grinning in return, Erik gives xem a playful punch on the shoulder.

“C’mon, don’t pretend you don’t wanna act out a little bit. Besides, what’s the point of rules if nobody ever tries to break ‘em?” Eleven puts up a facade of resistance as Erik keeps prodding.

“Alright, fair point,” xi finally admits once xi finishes chewing. Turning to face Erik in a criss-cross-apple-sauce position, Eleven looks at him expectantly.

“Okay, so…” Erik, unprepared to have gotten this far, pauses to think of where he should start his explanation. “Couple key things: you don’t want any attention on your swiping hand.”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah, ‘obviously,’ but, like… Go for people who are preoccupied: having a lively conversation with someone, or playing a game on their phone as they walk. And make lots of benign movements to draw their attention away from the real action. You saw how I was stepping and swaying around beforehand, so it didn’t look weird when my hand went out to snatch?” The whole time Erik talks, Eleven stares at him with an intense focus, tuning out everything else (including the blinking notification light on xir phone). “Taking some good notes?” Erik jokes.

The question seems to snap Eleven out of it, as xi chuckles and then wilts a little bit. “Sure, I just… I’m not a very… Attention-grabbing person.”

Erik blinks in surprise, thinking back to how he’s always felt compelled to at least wave hello to Eleven whenever he sees xem, and to how many arguments he and Hendrik have put on pause just to hear what Eleven might have to say, and to how even when xi was hidden behind some dumb unlabeled book about dinosaurs, xi was still the first thing Erik noticed when he walked into the sex shop. He can’t bring himself to agree with the statement, but clearly Eleven’s thinking about it some way that Erik isn’t.

“Uh- right. Yeah, I  _ guess _ I’ve noticed that.” The awkward recovery goes ignored as Erik quickly formulates a new strategy. “So, I guess we’ll just have to get you an easy target.” He only needs to look over his shoulder to find one. “Over there. Some college kid’s napping with their backpack.” Eleven smiles again, which makes Erik do the same. He abruptly tosses his spork out into the grass. “Just start crawling over there like you’re trying to find that thing and I’ll pantomime you through it from there.”

\--------------

_ [Hendrik] _

_ I’m here. Just parked near the basketball courts. _

_ Where are you guys? _

Hendrik starts walking while he waits for them to reply. He basically has no other choice but to keep walking when Erik and Eleven both fail to reply.

Eventually, Hendrik crests a small hill and spots his date(s). Sweaty and breathing hard from the hot car, the short walk, and the stress, he approaches. “Hello!” he calls. As he lifts his arm to wave, some grey powder flies like chalk off an eraser from the grey smudge that covers the entire right side of his long-sleeve black button-up. “I’m sorry to have kept you-” he stops not only to catch his breath, but also because he realizes that Eleven is on xir hands and knees in the grass, digging through a sleeping stranger’s backpack, and Erik seems to be guiding xem through it.

Erik flinches when he notices Hendrik. “Hey, uh! Abort mission!” he urgently stage-whispers to Eleven, prompting xem to grimace and scurry back to the blanket as Hendrik marches towards them.

“Really?” Hendrik barks. “I leave you alone for mere moments, only to find you corrupting our companion with your lowlife habits?”

Eleven is cowering, not too obviously, but an appropriate amount for someone being towered over and yelled at by a 6’6” man twice as wide as xi is. Erik does not look so scared; he is small and aggressive. He is used to being towered over and shouted at. He is composed enough to talk back to Hendrik.

“Bro, you are  _ literally _ covered in human remains right now.”

Hendrik huffs and puffs and throws his arms up, exasperated, then throws them back down (sending more ashes flying off him) and finally, rolling his eyes, he presents the best defense he can come up with: “It is  _ technically _ not medical waste.” 

Erik scoffs, and Eleven slaps a hand onto xir forehead, looking concerned but still laughing at the absurdity of all this.

“Whatever it  _ technically _ is, we should get it off you,” xi says, rising from the picnic blanket to approach Hendrik. Erik waits for xem to be a step or two away before following suit.

Eleven’s confidence turns to uncertainty once xi actually starts brushing the ashes off of Hendrik. Xi has no problem with being this close to Hendrik, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his back, but his sweat gives some of the ashes a gross sticky, spongy texture, and standing in a cloud of cremation remains was not exactly on xir list of fun date ideas to begin with. While Hendrik sighs, relaxes his shoulders in resignation, Eleven grimaces at Erik behind his back, wondering if this is, like… Morally okay? Or even legal? Erik intervenes.

“Do you have on an undershirt or anything?” he asks. “If you do, maybe you should just take the whole shirt off. Unless whoever that used to be had one hell of a will.”

Hendrik shakes his head grimly about the fact that this is absolutely  _ not _ what the deceased requested, and Eleven pats him on the back consolingly. “You’re… Probably right,” Hendrik admits, starting to unbutton his shirt. He has on a plain white t-shirt under it that clashes horribly with the brown slacks he has it tucked into, and Eleven waits behind him with a hand on each shoulder to collect the button-up as he slips it off.

“Should we… Put this in a Zip-Lock bag or something?” Xi asks, holding the fabric as far from xir body as possible. 

Hendrik grabs it from xem and turns away. “I’ll take care of it.” He does not seem to have brought a bag or anything down with him to store it in, but Erik and Eleven decide to keep their mouths shut about that. Besides, Hendrik seems to realize it on his own once he looks around for something and then announces, “Ah. I seem to have left my food in the car.”

“Well, you gonna go get it?” Erik offers, crossing his arms. Eleven glances over at him with pursed lips, wishing he could’ve been a little nicer about it, but Hendrik doesn’t really seem concerned with petty things like tone of voice right now anyways.

Hendrik sulks off back over the hill, leaving Erik and Eleven alone again for the moment.

Erik, arms still crossed, looks at Eleven. Eleven shrugs; xi knows Hendrik is doing his best.

After a moment, Erik opens his mouth to ask Eleven something, then stops and looks over his shoulder, brow furrowed. All the commotion of Hendrik’s arrival seems to have woken up Eleven’s would-be victim. Once he notices that they’ve both turned to look at him, he blinks and checks over his own shoulder as if they might just be staring at someone behind him.

“Uh, are you guys alright?” He finally calls out. “What was all that yelling about?”

“Nothing important.” Erik turns away and lowers himself back onto the blanket, and Eleven is quick to follow. Quietly, Eleven picks up the container of beans and rice xi had abandoned and tries to resume xir meal like normal. “Shit,” Erik mutters from off to the side. “The spork.” He’d left himself without a utensil to eat with. 

Grateful for something silly to worry about, Eleven follows Erik’s gaze out into the grass, where the spork has either accumulated too many germs to be worth recovering, or maybe has already vanished into the void. Pursing xir lips sympathetically, xi reaches into the bag nearest xem and pulls out the spork paired with the third meal, which xi had brought for Hendrik despite him declining the offer. “Hopefully Hendrik has his own?” Xi offers.

Erik takes it the same way he takes everything: unbothered by his conscience. “Thanks.” He quickly peels away the wrapping and sets the accompanying napkin in his lap, never looking at Eleven once, staring instead in the direction Hendrik walked away in. “Speaking of Hendrik, should we ask him?”

Frowning, Eleven quickly shakes xir head. Xi can already see Hendrik reappear over the hill, jogging back towards them, so xi has to change the subject quickly. “You get up to anything fun over the past few days?”

“Eh, same old same old. Crashed at my husband’s place last night.”

“Sounds nice,” Eleven lilts, xir voice playful with the memory of Erik’s visit to xir shop. Catching the innuendo, Erik finally looks at Eleven again, smirking, more than ready to be taken down that line of questioning. Instead, xi asks, “What’s your husband like?”

As Eleven takes another bite of beans, Erik thinks before answering. “I’ve known him pretty much as long as I can remember. His name’s Derk,” he says. Eleven nods attentively, waiting for more information that Erik does not go on to offer. Xi keeps waiting, until Hendrik is standing at their side again, this time carrying a messenger bag-style lunchbox. 

As he sits down, Eleven offers him the third set of tupperware. “I brought extra for you, just in case.”

“O-oh. Thank you.” Hendrik clearly wasn’t expecting the consideration. He gingerly takes the food from xem and continues talking as he gets settled in. “That’s… very thoughtful. I did actually end up with only half a sandwich and fruit cup left over, so… Thank you.” Eleven nods happily.

“So what happened over at the hellfire factory?” Erik interrupts. Both his dates glare at him.

“Just… A delay.” Hendrik mutters. “Hardly worth the discussion.”

“Did I miss the memo where it says that crematoriums just regularly rain ashes down all over their owners?” Erik doubts him. “C’mon man, since it made you show up late  _ like that _ you  _ have _ to tell us the story.”

Eleven moves to reassure Hendrik that he doesn’t  _ have _ to do anything, but he’s already conceded to Erik. “Alright, fine. There was an issue with the cremulator-”

“The what?”

“It’s the machine we use to grind the skeletal remains into ‘ashes.’ I was rushing through the process and missed a titanium hip implant before putting the remains in, and… Well, the blades are meant for scorched bones, not for metal.” 

Erik bursts out laughing, oblivious while Eleven pats Hendrik’s leg to offer condolences, imagining how guilty Hendrik must feel if xi feels it too just for being the reason he was rushing. Xi opens xir mouth to say as much, but apparently Hendrik is just as inattentive as Erik, and he starts talking again.

“So I had to shut the machine off, so that it wouldn’t destroy itself. But, the mechanisms were caught in a position such that the off switch wasn’t fixing them. I had to remove the pot to shut it off. The blades finally tore themselves free once I removed the pot, causing… remains to escape.” He shrunk a little as his dates stared at him. “So. I had to spend some time cleaning that up.”

“And it didn’t occur to you to change clothes during that time?” Erik asks, leaning back on his elbows and looking down his nose.

Hendrik sighs through his nose. “I didn’t have any spare. It’s not like I could just stick my head into JCPenny’s on the way here and walk back out with whatever the closest mannequin was wearing.”

Erik shrugs. “It’s what I would’ve done.”

Hendrik curls his lip at him, turning away to get his half-a-sandwich out of his lunchbox. Eleven had just been sitting there minding xir own business until Hendrik got his sandwich out.

“Ooh, peanut butter and jelly?” Xi chirps.

“Uh, yes.” Hendrik stutters as he switches back into peaceful mode. “It’s, uh, boysenberry jelly. It’s not the most common, but it’s my favorite.” he explains as he looks into Eleven’s questioning eyes.

“Very nice. It’s my favorite, too.”

Hendrik glances between Eleven and the sandwich in his hand. “Do you… want it? You’ve already more than made up for it with the food you’ve offered me.”

After an obligatory moment of surprise at the offer, Eleven smiles and nods gratefully and holds out xir hand for Hendrik to pass the sandwich to xem.

As Hendrik watches Eleven take xir first bite, still smiling at him, Erik crosses his arms and looks them both over. “Oh. I see how it is.” His tone is only half-playful.

Eleven rolls xir eyes. “Erik, come on.” He just harrumphs in response. “This is why I was trying to plan separate dates with you guys.”

“Uh,  _ WE _ were planning for a 1-on-1 date,” Erik snaps. “I  _ already _ thought Hendrik shouldn’t have come along, and I think it was an even worse idea now that he’s fucked up someone’s dead grandpa trying to get here on time!”

“So do you think you shouldn’t come to our dinner date on Saturday either, then?” Eleven retorts, quickly shutting Erik up.

“ _ I _ don’t think he should,” Hendrik pipes up, matching Erik’s aggressive energy. “He seems like the type to send food back after he’s already eaten half of it. The type to never come back from the restroom and leave us with the bill. The type to linger around, hogging a booth for hours after he’s done eating. The type-”

“That’s enough.” Eleven doesn’t yell, but xir voice is louder and firmer than either of them knew it could be. “If you can’t get along then just shut up and finish your food.”

They can’t even stop racking their brains for insults long enough to object, so they just do as they’re told. Everyone stops talking completely and they spend an uncomfortably long time just angrily chewing at each other. 

Hendrik even busts out his fruit cup to flex. Erik silently stares him down as he peels the lid just barely open and slurps all the syrup out of it. Erik, with his spork, moves on to eating his salad as Hendrik, lacking a utensil, pours the fruit into his mouth a few pieces at a time.

Erik smirks at Eleven as if to thank xem for leaving Hendrik utensil-less, but Eleven is just staring straight down into xir half-empty container of beans and rice. Xi sighs after one more small bite, and suddenly it hits Erik that this date didn’t have to be a disaster. 

Ducking his head, Erik finally mutters, “Sorry. I guess I was a little harsh.” Hendrik and Eleven perk up to look at him, intrigued. “I just… Got jealous and wanted to act on it.”

Eleven looks to Hendrik, since the apology was meant for him.

“I… forgive you. I suppose jealousy is the very reason I inserted myself into this date to begin with.” Erik nods, understanding. Hendrik hesitates for a long moment before he continues: “You’re… welcome to join us for dinner on Saturday if you’re able to.”

Smiling, Erik puts out his hand for Hendrik to shake it. “Thanks. I’ll see how my gigs work out.” This time when they shake, it doesn’t feel like Hendrik’s trying to prove himself and it doesn’t feel like Erik’s trying to steal from him.

Relieved, Eleven lets go of the sigh xi’d been holding in and leans in to remind the boys that xi’s there and to get a chat going again. Though they mostly rely on Eleven to be the centerpiece of their conversation, they’re able to finish eating without further incident, so that once the sun is beginning to set, and all of Eleven’s picnic supplies are packed up, they’re able to wave each other off on good terms as they head back to their cars.


	6. Chapter 6

The cool evening air hits Eleven’s face as Hendrik’s car door slams shut behind xem. Xi takes a deep breath in; the air is different here. It’s clean, cool, friendly; a gift from the canopy of well-groomed trees lining the road.

Erik had agreed to meet them at the Red Robin down the street from Hendrik’s place at 6:30pm tonight, and didn’t think to let them know he was running late until Eleven had already accepted a ride from Hendrik. 

“You’re welcome to come in,” Hendrik reminds xem quietly from the front walkway, mistaking xir contemplation for hesitation. He thumbs through his keys until he finds the button to make his car lock and beep, then switches over to the one he needs for the front door that he approaches. 

Eleven nods and follows him, somehow excited by the way xi has to be his passenger for the rest of the night. Xi isn’t sure if Hendrik had actually thought the transportation situation through, but they both just had to go back to their businesses in the morning, so (assuming Eleven would be staying until morning) it worked out.

Then again, it would also work out if  _ Erik _ drove xem home after dinner, but the idea of Hendrik  _ planning that _ seemed even more ridiculous than the idea of this puppy of a man actually shooting his shot for once.

Either way, when Eleven got the text that Erik was running late, and Hendrik had cautiously started suggesting some ways to kill the time before his arrival, Eleven was quick to cut the list short, knowing xi’d already heard the best option as soon as Hendrik said they could go to his house. After all, they had no idea how long they’d be sitting around waiting for, and a nice, big couch to sprawl out on beats a cramped little Lexus any day of the week.

Hence, Eleven is immediately drawn to the massive sectional outlining Hendrik’s living room as soon as he opens the door to let xem in. Xi slips in past Hendrik and makes xemself comfortable on the couch without having to be told to. The couch is soft, and the seats come far out enough that Eleven wouldn’t mind sleeping here, the ceiling reaching far, far overhead as xi sinks down into the cushions.

In the meantime, Hendrik’s keys clink softly as he sets them in the glass bowl by the door. It’s quiet enough that he’s acutely aware of the sound the fabric makes when he slips his jacket off to hang it up. Finally, he steps forward and pushes up the dimmer switch on the wall, bringing the inset light fixtures on the ceiling to life and revealing the spaciousness of his home.

The vast white walls light up from top to bottom, diffusing light even over the half-wall that lines the second floor loft. The stainless steel in the kitchen glitters off to the side of the foyer. Even so, there are a few short hallways and alcoves just around the corners that stay dark and make the living room lights seem more like a spotlight, under which Eleven is lying stretched out on the couch.

Xi looks around, taking it all in, and Hendrik nervously takes a few steps, until he’s leaning against the mantle of his fireplace. “You live here all alone,” Eleven observes. Hendrik nods.

“Yeah, I do.” Eleven doesn’t say anything, so Hendrik fills the silence. “It’s a big place.” Eleven nods, still trying to see all of it. As Eleven rises from the couch as if to wander off, Hendrik takes a reactive step towards the center of the room. “You want a tour?” he offers in his panic. Thankfully, when Eleven turns to meet his eyes, the stilted curiosity on xir face melts into a comfortable smile. Xi nods.

Before Hendrik can relax too much, though, xi interjects, “Uh, could you show me where the bathroom is, first?”

“Oh. Sure.” Always at the worst moment, this one. 

Hendrik leads xem halfway down a short hallway just behind the living room and manages to keep his cool right up until the bathroom door shuts behind xem. Then, he starts pacing, unreasonably nervous. 

He and Eleven are alone, at his big, spacious house that he has all to himself. Suddenly, he notices how crooked all the pictures are, and how obvious it is that he painted the walls himself instead of hiring professionals, and how he actually  _ can _ see every spot that he’s ever spilled coffee on the navy blue couch.

He rushes over to the mantle to rearrange his decorations. The picture of him and his family at his high school graduation is crooked. He nudges it to the side, then steps back, and now it looks  _ more _ crooked. Hendrik sighs and moves in to adjust it again, but he puts his arms out too soon, too wide, and sweeps a couple small, abstract sculptures off the mantle in the process. Lunging, he manages to catch one of them in the crook of his arm, but the other clatters against the tile and Hendrik cringes as he watches it roll, hoping the motion doesn’t reveal any cracks.

From somewhere behind him, he hears the toilet flush and the sink turn on. He at least manages to stand up before the bathroom door swings open and Eleven walks back out to the living room, xir footsteps silent on the plush carpet. Eleven doesn’t seem to react to the predicament at first; xi just walks up to Hendrik’s side, then picks up the fallen sculpture.

Xi turns it over in xir hands; it’s shaped like a rising flame, it has the density of driftwood, and it’s wrapped in strips of bright colors, the hues that you’d see in a lab demonstration of different chemicals being burnt.

Xi looks at Hendrik expectantly, then sets the art piece back on the mantle when he doesn’t offer any conversation about it. Hendrik sets the piece he’s holding, a wood carving of an eagle doing its best Picasso impression, back on the mantle as well, and then Eleven carefully reaches to adjust the picture he’d been trying to fix.

“This you?” xi asks. Hendrik nods. “Who else?”

“My parents. And my brother, Jasper. And a few friends from the basketball team.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Well,” Hendrik starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have Mom and Dad right here.” He gestures to two shiny urns, one gold and one silver, which Eleven had mistaken for teapots at first glance in the low light.

“Oh.” Xi blinks. “I’m sorry.”

Hendrik sighs. “It’s fine.” He,  _ very carefully this time _ , grabs the picture from the mantle to hold it closer to him. “Jasper… Doesn’t stay in touch as much as I’d like him to,” he explains. “I think he’s busy running for… City council, or something. The rest of the people here?” He shrugs. “Just high school buddies. We’re only friends on Facebook.”

“So, you don’t have many friends these days, do you?” Eleven probes.

“I have neighbors that I like.”

“You’ve got friends from work, too,” Eleven reminds him with a playful smirk, nudging him with xir elbow. Hendrik smiles back.

“I suppose I do.”

Hendrik puts the photo back in its spot, and as his hands return to his side, Eleven’s fingers, soft and dainty, brush lightly against the back of his hand. He looks down and over at Eleven, and when he meets xir gentle eyes, he can’t tell if his head is just swimming (definitely from hunger and not for any other reason) or if xi’s actually drifting towards him, ever so slightly. Breathing deep, Hendrik turns to actually face his guest.

And Eleven turns away, startled by the sudden three-note chime of the Ring doorbell, and the moment is over. Hendrik finally sighs out the breath he’d been holding as Eleven takes a step back, then wanders back to the foyer to investigate. He can already guess who’s at the door, but Hendrik still pulls his phone from his pocket and faces the disappointment of seeing Erik’s stupid face pressed up as close to the security camera as he can reach. He’s not in the mood to get pissy about it right now; he lets Eleven answer the door.

Erik walks in already blabbering. “Geez, El, I get ignoring your texts when you’re waiting for Hendrik, but ignoring them when you’re waiting for  _ me _ ? You wound me,” he sighs dramatically as he enters the living room.

Indeed, the notifications on Hendrik’s phone are clogged up with 6 unread messages from Erik in the group chat, telling them that his crew insisted he leave early and let them finish the job, and that now he’s on his way, and asking if they’re still meeting at the restaurant, and then saying he’s just coming to Hendrik’s house, and finally asking where he should park.

“Where  _ did _ you park?” Hendrik questions Erik by way of greeting.

“On the street,” Erik snaps back. Hendrik turns to the window and peeks out the blinds to see if he can spot Erik’s truck. Once he decides that he’s satisfied with the location of the vehicle, he nods and turns back to face his guests. He narrows his eyes; he shouldn’t have stopped looking at Erik in the first place. He hasn’t done anything. Yet. But he might. And Hendrik doesn’t wanna risk it.

He postures defensively as Erik starts to move vaguely in the general direction of the fireplace. Erik recoils, a bit confused. He blinks at Hendrik, clinging tight to the bag that he brought in with him until Hendrik realizes that he’s being weird and finally chills out a little bit. “Sorry,” he starts to explain. “I just-- I would prefer you don’t touch anything here.”

“Alright, alright. Not exactly the, ‘come on in, make yourself at home’ I was expecting, but whatever. Do you mind if I at least change clothes, clean up a little bit?” Only now does Hendrik notice that Erik’s clothes are dark with sweat, and his hair is a mess from a long day in the hot sun. His hands are still crusted with all the dirt that hasn’t already been wiped off on his face or jeans.

“Yes. That’s fine.” Hendrik agrees. Erik nods his thanks and Hendrik leads him to the downstairs bathroom. Once the door shuts behind him, Hendrik turns his attention back to Eleven.

“Seems like he was working  _ really _ hard to get here on time,” xi says.

Hendrik wants to reply that his efforts were in vain, given that he’s still a little over half an hour late, but he can’t bring himself to be derisive towards that earnest of an effort; the same kind of effort he himself had made only a few days prior for the picnic date. (Not to mention, at least Erik hadn’t spilt anybody’s ashes in the process.) (At least it  _ seems _ like he hasn’t, anyways.)

Hendrik turns away to hide his pout. Instead of simply admitting that perhaps Erik has displayed a virtue, he simply says, “I’m going upstairs to change as well,” and then goes, leaving Eleven alone to sink back into the couch.

\----------

The drive to the restaurant was tense. Hendrik did not approve of the ‘outfit’ (it’s more of a costume, really) he’d found Erik in when he came back downstairs. He didn’t think a royal blue crop top with white harem pants, a white scarf, and the jangliest jewelry money can buy was appropriate attire for a dinner date. Erik didn’t think a full-blown tuxedo was appropriate attire for a Red Robin, and they both let each other know it.

Eleven, dressed in a bright purple denim vest over a dark green turtleneck, didn’t fucking care and had to grab each of them by the collar and beg them to just  _ take xem to dinner already _ .

Erik had already used up his puppy dog eyes to get Hendrik to let him ride along in his car after that petty argument, and he’s now using the long silence of the car ride to mentally rehearse how he’s gonna bring up the issue of who’s paying tonight. He catches Hendrik’s eye in the rearview mirror and it seems like he’s already onto him.

Luckily, the ride isn’t too long, and once they arrive at Red Robin they make it inside and to a table without any issue.

“Do you two know anything about wine tasting?” Hendrik asks from behind his menu once they’ve all settled in. Eleven and Erik look up at him with the same confused expression as they both shake their heads. “Ah. I bet the wine here is awful,” he says anyways.

Eleven catches the hint, only to throw it away. “Don’t you have to drive the three of us home?” They’ve already ordered their beverages, anyways. Water for Hendrik, Sprite for Erik and Eleven.

“Come on, it’s 6 ounces. And it’s only for tasting.” Hendrik whines back. Eleven shoves xir tongue in xir cheek and looks Hendrik over as if deciding whether or not xir kid is allowed to have a second ice cream for dessert. He  _ is _ a big man, he can probably handle, like, a couple sips of wine. Erik can’t help but snicker as he watches the exchange between Eleven in xir bizarre but comfy-looking outfit and Hendrik in his tux, lit up by the bright Red of the Robin establishment. Throw in Erik’s costume, and it looks like they’re here to celebrate closing night of the school musical.

“As long as you’re paying for your own order, I don’t have a problem,” Erik says when he realizes he’s drawn the others’ attention.

Any further discussion is cut short when the waitress reappears at their table. “Hey guys, how are we doing over here? You ready to order?”

Erik waits for Hendrik to order the probably awful wine of his choice, then consults with the table: “How do we feel about the onion rings appetizer?” Hendrik and Eleven nod their approval and Hendrik places the order as he prepares to pick out an entree.

“I think maybe the Arctic Cod Fish & Chips could be good,” he muses.

Erik looks up from his menu. “Oh, that’s what I was looking at, too.”

Hendrik turns to the waitress. “How much food is the fish and chips?”

“It’s a pretty big serving, people usually have leftovers,” she answers.

“Do you wanna… share?” Erik hazards to guess.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t, as long as you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, sure, I guess. El, what are you getting?” Eleven stares at Erik until he leans over to see what xi’s pointing at on the menu. “The Crispy Chicken Tender salad? That’s all? Remember it’s all on Hendrik’s dime,” he says with a smirk. 

Hendrik huffs, then reminds Erik, “I thought you only wanted me to pay for what  _ I’m  _ ordering?”

“Sure,” Erik says through a sly grin before looking over to check on Eleven. “In that case, order a side of garlic fries for El.” Hendrik does as he’s told, and the waitress writes down the order and walks away with it.

The wine, being a beverage, arrives first, long before their food.

Hendrik picks up the small, round glass and sniffs it like a dog searching for drugs, swirling it occasionally. He catches the millenials staring at him. “You have to aerate it,” he explains, before finally taking the tiniest sip Erik’s ever seen someone take of an alcoholic beverage.

He lets it sit in his mouth as he sets the glass carefully back down on the table. Smoothly, Eleven reaches out and takes it from him, lifting it to xir mouth to take a sip like a normal human being. Xi passes it over to Erik as they await Hendrik’s verdict.

“Hm. Not as much body as I would expect from a chardonnay.”

Setting the glass back down in front of Hendrik as if it were a bottle of whiskey, Erik prompts him, “Tell us some jargon about it.”

Hendrik takes another teeny tiny baby sip and meets Eleven’s eyes, then Erik’s, in the process. Nobody says anything, but they’re all thinking it:  _ they’re totally indirect kissing right now. _

“I’d say it tastes… Hmm… Buttery. A bit round.” He pauses to reflect on the aftertaste. “It has a considerable length.”

Eleven sips from the glass again and crinkles xir face as xi tries to figure out what the hell Hendrik is talking about. Xi passes it to Erik again, who takes a swig and declares, “Tastes alcoholic.”

“I mean… That too,” Hendrik agrees, returning the little troglodyte’s sly grin. “One can only expect so much from a plonk.”

Eleven laughs, convinced that “plonk” is something Hendrik just invented as a joke, xir smile visible through the rim of the glass as it rests idly against xir soft lips. “Hey, taste it now.” Xi suddenly passes it to Hendrik, who obliges.

“I’d say it’s… Silky. A bit fruity.”

“You’re probably just tasting El’s lipgloss,” Erik teases, correctly.

“What would you know about my lipgloss?” Eleven snarks back, pouting for emphasis.

“Not as much as I’d like to.” He leans in towards xem abruptly, and Eleven’s small gasp fills xir nostrils with Erik’s scent, which Eleven would liken to the scent of fresh-cut grass under melting slush, if the Arizona native actually knew what snow smelled like. Xi’s so lost in Erik’s eyes for just a second that xi doesn’t notice he’s reclaimed the wine glass until he’s taking another drink from it, falling back into his own seat.

“Maybe you should slow down a little there,” Hendrik jokes.

Erik holds up the wine glass to show not only how little it is to begin with but also how much wine is still remaining. “I’ve had, like, an ounce, dude. It’s fine.”

Hendrik just scoffs. “Lightweight.”

“I’m only a hundred and two pounds, y’know that?”

“My mistake.  _ Feather _ weight,” he teases.

The waitress eventually returns to their table with their food, and, given that they’ve been forced to wait until almost 8 o’clock to have dinner, the conversation stops as they all dig in. There is a content silence between them as they stuff their faces until their hunger dies down.

Towards the end of their meal, Erik pokes at the last of his food with his fork, taking a moment to just enjoy the ambience. “Y’know, it’s nice to be away from work together,” he eventually comments. “Like,  _ actually _ away from work. Not on a break, or rushing straight there after closing, just… Having dinner together.” The others nod along in agreement.

“And, not just waiting to go home straight afterwards.” Hendrik adds, stealing the bite of fish Erik had been poking at. 

“Oh? Are some of us not going home tonight?” Erik teases. Hendrik rolls his eyes, but Erik presses on, “Do you mean that in a sexy way or like a serial killer way?” Eleven, smirking, kicks him under the table.

“Anyways, maybe we should start planning dates for days off,” Hendrik suggests.

“When would that even be, though?” Erik asks. They think about it for a minute, then he follows up, “I mean… I guess if this,” he gestures around the table, “gets important enough, we could just… Adjust our hours?” Eleven shrugs.

“Or,” Hendrik starts, “it might help simply to meet at one of our houses beforehand, as we did tonight.”

“Hey, speaking of which…” Eleven butts in. Xi nods towards the exit to imply the rest of the sentence. 

“Soon,” Erik says. “I wanna get dessert first.” He flags down the waitress at the first opportunity, to request the check and an order of Chocolate Fruffles™ to go. When the check gets back, he pulls an old-looking gift card from his pocket and slides it into the check.

“That should have enough on it to cover my dessert,” He declares in a tone that makes the others eye him suspiciously. “As for the rest…” He slides the check across the table to Hendrik.

Hendrik raises an eyebrow. “I  _ know _ you didn’t  _ just _ order your dessert.”

Erik shrugs stylishly. “ _ Technically, _ you ordered everything else.” Hendrik crosses his arms, so Erik continues. “Come on, Hendrik; don’t you have some code of honor to uphold or something?” Eleven has to kick him under the table again to stop from laughing.

“Why would I honor such an obvious trick?” Hendrik asks, mimicking Erik’s rhetorical tone.

“So you’re sinking to my level instead?”

“...No.” Grumbling, he finally pulls out his wallet and throws down the cash to pay for everything (plus a 20% tip, obviously) onto the table. “Come on, let’s just get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10:14 PM Pacific Standard Time on Wednesday night still counts as Wednesday, right? 🥴  
> Anyways, hope you're all looking forward to next week when I will be forced to update the rating of the fic from M to E lmao


End file.
